


Domestic Affairs

by SwiggitySwagWhatsInTheBag97



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: 1950s, Courier Six - Freeform, Cute, Domestic, F/M, Kids, Suburbia, The Courier - Freeform, benny gecko - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwiggitySwagWhatsInTheBag97/pseuds/SwiggitySwagWhatsInTheBag97
Summary: Benny dreams of a better world with Six. But it's something he will never have. (ONE SHOT)*ALSO, I recommending listening to Sleepwalk by Santo & Johnny. A beautiful piece. Romantic and melancholy*





	

It was something Benny had longed for, for the billionth time. He dreamed it over and over again. But now that Six had a permanent residence in his bed, he wished for it even more. One of his more secretive hobbies was to scrounge around for prewar books. Not the skill books, the Ben-Man was as good as he was going to get… _And he was great_. He collected old romance novels. It was a secret he would never tell. Reading them when he was just a teenybopper in the old tribe. He ached for the good life. It was his American Dream. Something so pure at the touch, but could never tangibly grasp. He would lie awake for hours after their love making. Tracing her bare skin with his fingertips. Listening to the sweet sound of her heartbeat (still regretting his decision to silence that, back in the day). 

He had dreamt of a forgiving Mojave summer. Grilling out on the back patio. The warm AstroTurf tickling the sides of his sandals. _And there Six was_. Checking the temperature of their mod in-ground swimming pool. Something the neighbors were green in jealously over. The suntan oil on her body sparkled in luminescence from the reflection of the soft waves in the pool as her painted toenails dipped in and out of the deep end. She would look at him and say, “Perfect”. Brahmin steaks and gecko kebabs would be grilled to perfection, resulting in a kiss for the cook. A long, sweet, and tender kiss. Until some feral ghouls would crash the party, ripping into Six’s tanned skin. The pool would become a cesspool for Centaurs, spewing venom all over her award winning Mutfruit trees. But Benny was immune. He was there to watch the unthinkable; his dream had turned into reality.

He had dreamt of returning from a long day of work. Parking the latest model of a Chryslus Corvega. It was a convertible, too. Giggling as he kicked the plastic flamingo, adorned in his front yard. Smelling the blooms of the barrel cactus by the front door. And opening up his beautiful home, one he so gladly taken out a mortgage on. The smells of tropical spices lingered in the air. Big horn steak and pineapple? The Mrs. was craving Hawaiian tonight. Six had greeted him at the door with a red kiss stained on his cheek. Sitting down for dinner only to call out the names of two perfect children. A boy and a girl. Benny and Six had created them out of their love. Eating together. Sharing stories and secrets. Being an _actual_ family, not this cutthroat nonsense at The Tops, besides for Uncle Swank, whom would spend weekends with the children. Turning on the tube to watch Grognak the Barbarian, cuddling up on the couch with Six. And finally, putting the little tikes to bed. Kissing them each goodnight. Wishing them sweet dreams. Until a pack of night stalkers bust down the door and attack Six. Hearing her screams from the master bedroom. Blood splattered all over the walls. The children covering their ears as they heard their mother’s screams, as they, too were eaten alive. All except for Benny. Left alone. Unable to protect the things he held dearest to him.

He had dreamt of a forgiving Nuclear Winter. Putting the mink stole across Six’s bare shoulders. Kissing her on the neck, before waving goodbye to the children and Uncle Swank as they went on their way to the Strip. They were going to see an act at the Aces tonight. Drinking cocktails in the darkness and tapping their toes to the soft jazz. Benny offered Six a dance, which she accepted. Holding her close and tight; he never wanted to let go. For if he did, he would lose her. Smelling the soft desert rose perfume he had gotten her for their anniversary. He would whisper sweet nothings into her ears, causing Six to blush and giggle. A noise so satisfying, he would want it to be his last. Then seeing the look in her eyes. Such a sultry and seducing look. A look he was very used to, but experienced it like his first time with Six. Making love was something they were good at. Until mercenaries busted down the door. Shooting up the bartender, Tommy, himself, and eventually Six. Benny had held her close, but even the rusted bullet from a rotten Jet head, broke the barrier. Her brains splattered all over Benny’s infamous suit. It was not the red kiss that stained his cheek, anymore. It was her red blood. 

_The old world charm_. It was like the American Dream. Something so close to grasp, Benny’s fingertips grazing. But utterly unreachable. New Vegas _took_ that from him. The Wasteland _stole_ it from him. Oh, how he wished and longed and dreamt for a better life. Such small simple moments. He would never take them for granted. Something so small, the Wasteland would never let him have it. Unfortunately for Benny, he must keep on dreaming. For this isn't suburbia. It's a wasteland.


End file.
